The Female and the Cross

The Female and The Cross I have borne children Who kick and climb and some who lay Along my branches like a sleepy panther Watching for prey Some curl inside my womb Whilst eating an iced creamy foam Hiding from parents who say Its time to go home Seniors walk by and comment On my outstretched arms Usually the female, the boss Who nonchalantly, in passing remarks That they are like a cross. And here I stand old wrinkled and worn Lightening-struck and fingers torn But I am still here bearing children And always will do My roots travelled to start my children anew For I have lived two hundred years I have seen the Lords and the Ladies The grooms and the scullery dears And I will bear children when all now are gone For my reason to live is To go on and on.